


Who Are You?

by LotharWinchester



Series: Fallout Snippets/ Shorts [35]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Arthur not being a dick for once, Brotherhood of Steel - Freeform, Established Relationship, Eventual Smut, Goodneighbor, M/M, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Power Armor, Sanctuary, Sole Survivor's significant other, Vault 111
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-04 18:52:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5344799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LotharWinchester/pseuds/LotharWinchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Sole Survivor returns to Sanctuary to complete a task he's been putting off for two years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hell in Sanctuary

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Fallout 4. 
> 
> Forgive me if it seems to OOC. I actually have only seen Fallout walkthroughs since I don't own a Next Gen. console. 
> 
> This might end up as a part 2 for a series, currently unsure.

The trilling and hissing of Power Armor cut through the faint sounds of Sanctuary. Without turning around, he could tell that Danse had come for him.  The Brotherhood had sent word for him God knows how many times in the past three months. He, however, did not want to deal with them, or their young leader.

He frowned at the thought of _Elder_ Arthur Maxson. The boy had already weighed on his waking moments enough.  He shivered at the memory of Arthur’s skin against him. His hollotags dragging along his bare chest as the boy slept next to him.  He’d given the boy too much. Too much of himself.

“Elder Maxson sent me to gather intel on you.” Danse shifted inside the Power Armor while the machine itself remained firmly planted in the topsoil around Vault 111. He didn’t look up even though he knew Danse deserved as much.

“Well, you found me.” He didn’t recognize his own voice. “Gather your intel.”

Danse’s armor hissed as he stepped back from the mouth of the Vault and faced away from the sole survivor.

_“Elder Maxson, Sir.”_ Danse’s clear and precise voice struck a nerve where it usually soothed, _“He is near the Vault…”_

The cryoman stood and began to make his way down into the Vault. He had one more trip to make.

\----

 

He expected the shrill noise of Danse’s armor to accompany him and fill the void Cryogenics area of Vault 111.  Instead, the all too familiar sound of boots echoed across the metal floors. The confident gate of Arthur Maxson did little to reassure him when he needed it most.

“So the ever gracious Elder Maxson will humble me with his presence.”  He didn’t look up from the task he’d forced himself to complete. Nora’s frozen corpse had remained in her cryopod for almost two years. His wife.   “Leaving the comforts of Prydwen to check on one of his beloved soldiers.”  Sarcasm laced heavily in his words as years’ worth of unshed tears finally made it to the surface. “To what do I owe this _prestigious_ honor?”

_How could I have treated Nora this way? She would have wanted to be buried…_

“She knew.” It escaped his lips before he could register the words. “She knew about me and still stayed. She loved me anyway.” He chuckled lowly as he pulled the lever to open the cryopod door. “Loved Shaun. So much so she died protecting him.” 

Arthur had heard this story before, in the control center of Prydwen and in his own private quarters in hushed tones. He’d heard how much had been taken from and how much this man had suffered.  The Brotherhood of Steel leader remained silent. All of the things he wanted to stay never made it past his lips.

“I loved her devotion to our son.” The Survivor’s voice cracked as he brushed his fingers gently over Nora’s open eyes.  “She deserved better. From me, from our life.”

He looked down at his wife who was now thawing in his lap. He sighed heavily and slowly slid her onto the mostly undamaged tarp he’d borrowed from Goodneighbor.  Once Nora was fully on the tarp, he realized just how close Arthur was to him. 

Before he could voice his objections, Arthur draped a thick Brotherhood issue grey blanket over Nora’s body and held out his hand.

_Who are you?  And what have you done with Arthur Maxson?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. I'm blown away by how quickly this got kudos, bookmarks, and comments. Thank you. Really though, I was diagnosed with Dysthymic Disorder and NLD (Non Verbal Language Disorder) recently. So It is hard for me to not only get into something new but also to express myself in a clear manner. 
> 
> special thanks to Abysslullaby for the comment. I'm glad my NLD wasn't as noticable like it is in my other stories. 
> 
> My birthday is tomorrow (i'm two fucking years older than Arthur I can't believe it) so I thought i'd finish the last bit of chapter 2 and post it for all of you. Thanks again everyone.

Both men stood over the covered body for a while before Arthur knelt down and grabbed the bottom portion of the tarp in silence. He waited until the survivor firmly grasped the top two corners before making his way into the grave they’d dug together.  They each grabbed a shovel borrowed from Sturgis and looked at the pile of dug up soil beside the grave.

_I’ll pay Hancock for the tarp later._

He was unnerved by how quiet the Brotherhood leader was. Arthur always had some order, some command to bark at the other members of the Brotherhood of Steel.  He was _never_ this quiet.

By the time they had finished burying Nora, the sun had set and Danse had joined Maxson in Sanctuary. The people of the settlement were kind, offering what they could by way of food.

He wanted to give the man all the time he needed to say goodbye.

Maxson stood by one of the many water pumps to clean his hands. He was surprised to find purified water pouring from the spout. He took a moment to wash his face and neck clean of Wasteland grime.

“Thank you.” It was Preston, one of the Minutemen he’d discovered over dinner, who broke the silence as he washed his hands beside Maxson. “For going with him. He needed to close that chapter of his life.”

Maxson nodded as he took in the night sky. It was mostly out of habit to check for radiation storms but he found himself comforted by the pitch black for a moment.

“He’s been different since he joined, you know?” Preston turned to face the spout with three empty buckets.

“How so?”  Maxson almost slipped into his tight military stance as he shifted away from the spout.

Preston smiled as he swapped one full bucket for an empty. “He was happier. Slept a little easier.” The water pressure faded in and out as the Minuteman spoke. “Hell, he even started to smile.”

Maxson turned back to Preston, his arms clasped behind his back. “What happened?” 

He had a sinking feeling he already knew.

“He changed recently. Within the last few months.” Preston frowned as he maneuvered the last bucket and put both of his hands on the back up lever. “He was happy at first. About three months ago he went back to how he was at the beginning.”   He pressed his weight into the lever and the water pressure slowly came back to normal. “I think he fell in love with someone in the Brotherhood. Is that allowed?”

Maxson palmed some of the water and brought some of it up to his black hair. “It’s uncommon but not forbidden.”

_I think I’m in love with you, Arthur._

He had never met someone who truly meant it. Most of the lovers he had taken wanted the bragging rights of bedding the Elder or wanted to be the one to give him an heir. They only wanted the notoriety, the fame.  His first reaction to the survivor’s declaration was not what the man wanted.

Arthur had said nothing. He hadn’t held him close to his bare chest and slept like their usual post coital practice. His rough hands didn’t skim over the toned flesh of the older man’s arms to stop him from leaving. He let him go.

Preston watched as the leader of the Brotherhood stared blankly out into the barren landscape. He knew then but refrained from calling Maxson out. Instead, he bent down and picked up two of the three buckets “Can you grab the last one?” 

Maxson bent down and grasped the bucket handle in one hand and followed behind silently.

\--

By the time the survivor came into town, everyone in Sanctuary had gone to bed. The new metal houses stood attached to the nearly torn down prewar ones for extra space.  He sighed heavily as he sheathed his sword and headed towards the old common quarters he had set up the first day that the others had arrived.  He still could not sleep in his old home. Too many of his old memories haunted him, making sleep nearly impossible.

He reheated the leftover stew on the cooking flame and ate in silence. He needed to get back to his shelter at the Red Rocket station just outside of town. He’d assumed Maxson had traveled back to the Brotherhood airship and was resting in his quarters.

His hand clenched around his spoon at the thought.

So the sound of Arthur’s voice filling the quiet night startled him. “Preston told me you settled outside of Sanctuary.”

The survivor cleared his throat and set the pan down. “I thought you’d returned to the Brotherhood.”

He tensed under Arthur’s light clasp on his shoulder. Had he turned around, he would’ve seen the brief flicker of hurt cross the younger man’s face.  “I sent Danse back with word I would be staying here tonight.”

That was a feat in and of itself. “How? Danse adheres to every Brotherhood rule, including protecting you.”

Arthur chuckled and felt the older man tense again beneath his hand. “I told him I was with you.”

Their sessions of animalistic fucking and nearly silent lovemaking were no secret on the Prydwen.  Arthur was known long before the survivor came to take lovers, sometimes more than one at a time, to sate his desires. Danse was the only person aboard that didn’t gossip or rib him about it.

The survivor nodded and put out the cooking fire by kicking some dirt over it with his worn boots. “I take it you’re following me then.”

Maxson nodded and briefly showed the Brotherhood pistol underneath his coat. “I’ve got your back.”

The sole survivor skimmed his pockets for a pack of smokes and tapped the bottom of the box against his fingers as he walked towards the entrance of Sanctuary.  “It’s not that far.”  He slid a cigarette out of the box and flicked a lighter open along his palm.  He tried not to think about how close Arthur was as they closed the metal fabricated doors of Sanctuary behind them.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm considering putting a sole survivor name in but I'm not sure, what do you think?


End file.
